Sneak in quietly, hoping she isn't noticed

Zhou looked through the bottom half of the small window on a disproportionally large door, the only part she could reach while standing on her tip-toes. The teacher was turned around, writing something on the top of the electronic presentation board. This was her chance.

She slowly pressed the smooth, polished handle and pushed the door ajar. The ambient hum of the class could now be heard, getting a bit louder as she squeezed through the door that wasn't even open halfway. She zipped in as quietly as she could with her head down and with a slight bend to her knee in a mockery of a sneak, hoping, pleading that she wouldn't be noticed...

***ahem***

Shit.

Zhou's heart sank and she felt like a knee had just struck her in her stomach. She clocked her head in a robotic movement to meet eyes with her judge, jury and executioner.

"Miss Smith, it is so nice of you to finally join us. Sleep well, I take it?"

The voice pierced her ears like a knife and made a chill shoot down her spine. It was none other than the woman only known as Mrs. Peterson, one of Headmaster Jack Peterson's favourite personal slaves. The middle-aged vixen folded her gloved hands below her large bust and stared daggers at the increasingly embarrassed Zhou who has severely transgressed the academy's firm rules. Her attire screamed dominatrix. Her long leather boots reached just above the knee and her dark-grey pencil skirt greatly accentuated her wide hips. She was, however, not wearing her iconic matching leather corset that highlighted her shapely hourglass figure; it was nowhere to be found. Instead, the white shirt she was wearing revealed a swollen midriff which showed everyone that she must have been around 6 months pregnant. Moving up above her heavy bosom, no doubt swollen with milk, and dark areola which were visible behind her shirt, her mature face was framed with a pair of glasses that one would expect to be on a much older librarian. Finally, her silky black hair was held together in a neat bun with a pair of chopsticks and two parallel strands of hair flowed down beside both sides of her face making for a strikingly beautiful appearance.

Mrs. Peterson broke the silence at last with a disappointed and clearly agitated tone, "Well, it seems that today is your lucky day. There is no time to give you your lashings in front of the class." The stone on her heart was about to fall before the teacher spoke again, "Please come back here at the end of the day, I will carry out your punishment then. For now, take your seat." Zhou gave a wordless 'thanks' and in a walk of shame, she shuffled to her desk in silence.

Lao, Zhou's cousin and best friend since the day she could form memories, stared at her all the way with a sadistic smile. Seeing the wide, Cheshire grin on her face, Zhou couldn't help but have her morning bout of jealousy. Lao was taller than her by a good two inches which were complimented by her healthy athletic body type, she had light brown-red hair styled in two identical pig tails on the sides of her head, delicate facial features that highlighted her sea blue eyes and, most importantly, had well-formed breasts that dwarfed hers ever since they started growing. "You better pray that Mrs. Peterson has some lube along with the strapon she has in her shelf. If not, well, I'm not sticking around to carry you home on my back." Lao murmured in a tone that Zhou couldn't tell was joking or not. She responded by rolling her eyes and giving a soft 'pft' before turning back to face the front of the class to listen to what made the day so special that she avoided public humiliation after such a blatant transgression.

"As most of you will know, today is careers day. You will be finding out possible paths that you can take to spend the rest of your working life doing and who will take proper ownership of you once you finish your education." After picking up a stack of papers from the top of her desk, Mrs. Peterson strutted around the classroom to hand them out to each student. "Usual classes will be suspended for the day and you will be expected to follow the schedule to the letter. Any deviation will be punished by a prefect or me personally, is that understood?" The whole class chimed in unison an unenthusiastic 'Yes ma'am' as she strutted back towards her desk and passing Zhou, leaving a sweet scent of expensive perfume along the way. She picked up the pen and started drawing on the board an eerily accurate sketch of the school's angular halls and rooms. "For the first and second hour you will be in the oral instructions classroom in 164 to listen to a number of speakers talk about possible opportunities that you might be interested in." she spoke as she pointed to one of the rooms on her makeshift map, before moving on to the second box, "you will have lunch as usual before heading to the computer lab where you will do some research on interesting careers using the intranet." To finish her diagram, she extended to reach all the way to the top of the board, hiking the tight pencil skirt all the way up to her round cheeks. "Woah, and what is this?" Lao leaned in, along with a good third of the class to focus on an alien mark situated on Mrs. Peterson's upper right thigh, just beneath her ass - a seared scar reading 'JP' with a thick circle going around it. Branding in this day and age was rarely used, even for disobedient slaves, with permanent tattoos being a much more common method of marking property. "Do you think... she personally requested it from Mr. Peterson?" Zhou responded, not breaking contact with the sear until the teacher herself turned back around. Lao had a different idea in mind, "Or she pissed off head really bad..." Could that be true? Could the personification of a perfect Chink **** have made her master so angry he branded her? Mrs. Peterson cut Zhao's internalizing theories short by giving the final instruction, "Finally, you will return back here to have a proper review of what you learned and have a discussion with the rest of the class. Any questions?" And right after the final word, the bell rang to announce the beginning of the first lesson.

"Alright, make your way to the Oral Instructions class in an orderly fashion. Do not forget to show the speakers proper respect. They have served our White superiors loyally and dutifully and should be given the treatment they deserve." At her command, the class left the room and in a way that would make a skilled choreographer blush, made their way down to Room 164. Oral Instructions was one of the 'big three' of girls education and was design to train the students' throats and mouths enough to be worthy of proper service. In order to graduate public school, the student must no longer have a gag reflex and be able to provide a minimum level of stimulation, evaluated by a professional examiner. The room itself was much different that most of the other ones in the school. There were no traditional tables and chairs, in their place there were desks about a foot and a half in height made in a half-moon shape. A small vice on the side of the desk allowed the two students who shared each one of the desks to raise or lower them by another few centimeters. There were no chairs at all, instead the floor was covered in a thick and comfortable carpet except for a strip by the wall at the back of the class used for advanced examination. The front of the classroom had the usual teacher's desk - a larger version of the half-moon tables the students had - and a slightly elevated podium that had a purple curtain against the wall right at the front of the room, in place of the usual electronic board.

The instructor and head of the Oral Instructions delegate team, Miss Junli, was a woman of a lithe build, tiny breasts and narrow hips. She was an oddity in the school's staff and certainly in the wider society as she was half-Asian and half-Indian, with her Cantonese father working at a farm in Eastern India and ending up getting married with a local woman that would end up giving birth to a daughter. They later moved to Unity and, as per the rules where the Father is the one who is used to dictate the race of the family, were directed to the Asian district where Miss Junli grew up to excel at her Oral Instructions course and being taken to teach it through a government sponsored programs for young Asian teachers. This fact, however, drew the ire of many a zealot in both the student and the staff body directed at her unusual genetic background. This disliking would always be soothed away by the young teacher's eccentric personality that would make her one of the favourites of the school. Her attire was smarter than usual due to the occasion; a feminine pale-green shirt paired with silky-looking trousers that flowed down her skinny legs. The many white pearls on her neck and wrists contrasted her wavy black hair that reached a few inches below her neck as she greeted the students multiple times on their way in.

As the hubbub of students who've just entered their class died down, Miss Junli clasped her hands together and and spoke in a soft-but-clear tone, "I'm so glad to see everyone here on such an important day, we have quite the lineup of talented individuals and I'm absolutely positive each and every one of you will find your calling" She grabbed a clipboard and called out the students' names in the register before flipping the sheet over. She hummed aloud as her finger traced along the sheet before stopping abruptly and giving the teacher a smile.

"Ah, please welcome with open arms, our first speaker for today..."